Page 37 of Chasing After You
Oh god. I smile at the waiter as my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Would you mind repeating that?”
“Would you like dessert?” he repeats.
Henry chuckles, not even bothering to hide his amusement at this. The worst part is that Henry easily could have answered this question for me, considering I’ve never turned down dessert anywhere.
“Absolutely. Surprise me with your favorite,” I say, smiling at the waiter as Henry asks for the same.
I consider kicking him under the table, but that wouldn’t be very loving of a fake girlfriend to do to her fake boyfriend, who she’s trying to seduce into being her real boyfriend.
“You were in la-la land,” he teases, and I roll my eyes.
“You could have answered for me. You knew what my answer was going to be.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I know, but I’ve also heard it’s rude to order for your date,” Henry says, but there’s something weird about how he says it. I study him for a moment, and under my scrutiny, Henry shifts his eyes away to look out the window. I gasp, clapping my hands over my mouth as surprised laughter bubbles from my chest.
“What are you laughing at me for?”
“You’ve totally ordered for someone on a date before, and she bit your head off, didn’t she?” I grin at him, finding this funnier than I probably should. Normally, the idea of Henry with another girl makes my stomach hurt, but he’s not here with her, he’s here with me. I could be totally delusional, but it doesn’t feel entirely fake.
Henry’s ears immediately turn pink, and he pushes his sleeves up his forearms, my attention immediately drawn to the ink that was previously hidden. All that’s visible is the rolling ocean in shades of grey and black, with the scaly tail of a hippocampus, while the rest is hidden from view.
“I wouldn’t say she bit my head off, but I did listen to her go on about how controlling men are and how misogynistic they can be after I ordered an ice cream sundae for us to split. I didn’t mean it that way, but who doesn’t like ice cream and chocolate sauce?” he says, defending himself. Henry clears his throat, meeting my eyes as his widen. “Oh shit, I didn’t mean I think you would react like that if I ordered for you, but I’m trying to listen more so I stop pissing you off. I didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing, so I thought it’d be better if you ordered for yourself,” he rambles, and I try not to melt into a puddle.
There is nothing sexier than a man hearing your words and caring enough to value them.
“Did you go on another date with her after that lecture?” I ask, forcing my brain to move past that before I say something dumb likeI love youorcan I have your babies?Both are acceptable options, but not for this moment.
Henry cringes, his gaze shifting away momentarily. “No, that was the end of that,” he answers, tapping his fingers on the tablecloth. “Probably for the best.”
“Probably, it doesn’t sound like she was the right person for you,” I say, taking a sip of what is technically Henry’s wine, since I can’t order my own legally for another five months. If only we were in France.
“Who do you think is the right person for me, if you don’t mind me asking?” he asks, probing for an answer to my statement. A lock of Henry’s dark, unruly waves has fallen in his face as he tilts his head to look at me.
A lump immediately forms in my throat, and I take another long drink of the wine, trying to wash it away. “You know, I think I’m going to go to the restroom. I’ll be back in a minute,” I squeak out, pushing my chair back as I snag my phone off the table. I’m totally calling Emily in the bathroom, and if she doesn’t answer, I’m calling JJ.
His face shifts in confusion, and I hear his deep voice say something, but I’ve already walked too far away to hear what he said.
That might be the worst way I could have reacted to that question, but honestly, I’ve done rather well with everything else tonight. I was bound to crack at some point. I’m not sure how Henry is single, because while he might say dumb shit, he’s pretty good at playing the role of a boyfriend.
A quick scan underneath the doors of the stalls reveals I’m in here by myself. I hit Emily’s number, dragging a hand over my face in agony.
She answers immediately, catching me by surprise. Normally it’s harder to get ahold of her. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date with your boyfriend?”
“I’m hiding in the bathroom,” I blurt out, smoothing down my dress. Why can I be bold in every other aspect of my life, except with Henry?
“Um, why?”
“Henry asked me a question I didn’t know how to answer after we had the most life changing kiss ever, and he’s so fucking sweet, and I’m acting like a child by cowering in the bathroom,” I ramble, pacing back and forth.
“Woah, slow down. Give me a second to catch up,” Emily says. “What did he ask you?”
“We were joking around about one of his previous dates, and he said it was for the best it didn’t work out. So I obviously opened my mouth and agreed with him that she wasn’t the right girl for him, cause, duh, hello, she’s not me. And then it opened the door for him to ask who I fucking thought was right for him? So I ran, and I’m hiding in the bathroom like an idiot.”
“Would it be so bad if you finally told him that you like him?”
That is absolutely the worst possible thing I could do. I think the only thing worse would be if I asked to have his babies. “Yeah, and get rejected? That’d be amazing for my self-esteem, Em.”
“Bullshit. He could like you too, Mira. You’re the most confident person I know. Get your ass back out there, and tell Henry you like him instead of hiding.”
